CHAPTER XVIII

ENTER CAPTAIN HAROLD LOVELACE

At the end of August, after having spent a moderately quiet summer in

the country, Lady Lavinia was again seized with a longing for town and

its attractions. She would not listen to Richard's warnings of the

atrocious condition of the roads, declaring that she cared not one jot,

and go to London she must. After that one protest he desisted, and

promised to take her there the following week, secretly counting himself

lucky to have kept her so long at Wyncham in comparative cheerfulness of

spirits. Lavinia was overjoyed, kissed him again and again, scolded

herself for being such a wicked tease, and set about making her

preparations for the journey.

The roads proved even worse than Richard had prophesied, and twice the

coach nearly upset, and times without number stuck fast in the mire,

causing the inmates much inconvenience. Carstares rode by the side of

the heavy vehicle, in which were his wife, her maid, her tiny dog, and

countless bandboxes and small parcels. In spite of the worry the

constant stoppages entailed, he quite enjoyed the journey, for Lavinia

was in excellent spirits, and made light of their mishaps, receiving

each fresh one with roguish laughter and some witty remark. Even when

the chimney of her bed-chamber, at one of the inns at which they halted,

smoked most vilely, she did not, as Richard quite expected she would,

fly into a rage and refuse to spend another moment in the house, but

after looking extremely doleful, cheered up and told dear Dicky that she

would have his room while he should have hers. Then in the morning she

would find him all dried up and _smoked_! In high good humour she went

down to dinner with him, voted the partridges excellent, the pasties

quite French, and the wine marvellously tolerable for such an

out-of-the-way place, and kept him laughing at her antics until

bed-time.

The journey was, of necessity, very slow, not only on account of the bad

roads, but because whenever my lady caught sight of wild roses growing

on the hedges, she must stop to pluck some. Then she and Richard would

stroll along for some way, he leading his horse, the coach following at

a walking pace. All of which was very idyllic, and had the effect of

sending Richard to the seventh heaven of content.

When at length they arrived at Wyncham House, Mayfair, they found that

the servants had arrived a week before, and had made good use of their

time. Never, declared Lavinia, had the house looked so inviting--so

spick and span.

One of her black pages proffered a small monkey with much bowing and

grinning, and the murmur of: "Massa's present."

Lady Lavinia flew to embrace her Dicky. How did he guess that she had

for so long yearned for a monkey? Surely she had but once or twice

mentioned it? Oh, he was the very best of husbands! She danced off to

her apartments in a state of ecstasy.

The _beau monde_ was returning to town, and when, a few days later,

Carstares conducted his wife to Ranelagh, they found the gardens fairly

crowded and very gay. Lamps hung from tree branches, although it was

still quite light; the fiddlers scraped away almost without a pause;

fireworks shot up from one end; the summer-houses had all been freshly

painted, and the Pavilion was a blaze of light.

Consciousness of her beauty and the smartness of her Georgia silk gown,

with its petticoat covered in gold net, considerably added to Lavinia's

enjoyment. Her hair she wore powdered and elaborately curled down on

both sides with dainty escalloped lace half concealing it, and a grey

_capuchin_ over all. Her tippet was gold-laced to match her petticoat,

and to fasten it she wore a brooch composed of clustered rubies. Rubies

also hung in her earrings, which last were of such length that the other

ladies turned to stare in envy, and the bracelets that she wore over her

long gloves flashed also with the great red stones. She was well-pleased

with Richard's appearance, and reflected that, when he chose, he could

be very fashionable indeed. The claret-coloured velvet he was wearing

was most distinguished, and the gold clocks to his hose quite ravishing.

They had not been in the Gardens ten minutes before a little crowd of

men had gathered around them, professing themselves enraptured to behold

the fair Lady Lavinia once more. One of them fetched her a chair,

another a glass of negus, and the rest hovered eagerly about her.

Becomingly flushed with triumph, my lady gave her little hand to Mr.

Selwyn, who had been once a very ardent admirer, laughed at his neat

compliment, and declared that he was a dreadful flattering demon, and

positively she would not listen to him!

Sir Gregory Markham, who brought her the negus, she discovered to have

just returned from Paris. On hearing this, she broke off in the middle

of a conversation with an enchanted French Chevalier and turned to him,

raising her china-blue eyes to his face and clasping tight-gloved

hands.

"Oh, Sir Gregory! Paris? Then tell me--please, tell me--have you seen my

darling Devil?"

"Why, yes, madam," responded Markham, handing her the glass he held.

She sipped the negus, and gave it to the Chevalier to take care of.

"I declare, I quite love you then!" she exclaimed. "What is he doing,

and, oh! _when_ will he return to England?"

Sir Gregory smiled.

"How can I say?" he drawled. "I fear _monsieur s'amuse_!"

She flirted her fan before her face.

"Dreadful creature!" she cried. "How dare you say such things?"

"Belmanoir?" inquired Lord D'Egmont, twirling his cane.

"Enamoured of the Pompadour, is he not--saving your presence, Lady

Lavvy!"

Lavinia let fall her fan.

"The Pompadour! He had best have a care!"

"I believe there has already been some unpleasantness between his

Majesty and the fair Jeanne on the subject of Devil. Since then she is

supposed to have turned on him a cold shoulder."

"_I_ heard 'twas he wearied of madame," said Markham.

"Well, whichever it was, I am glad the episode is closed," decided

Lavinia. "'Tis too dangerous a game to play with Louis' mistresses. Oh,

mon cher Chevalier! if I had not forgot your presence! But I am sure you

say dreadful ill-natured things of our George, now don't you? Oh, and

have you held my negus all this time? How monstrous good of you! There,

I will drink it, and Julian shall take the glass away.... _Voila_!" She

handed it to D'Egmont and rapped Mr. Selwyn's knuckles with her fan,

looking archly up at him as he stood behind her chair.

"Naughty man! Will you have done whispering in my ear? I vow I will not

listen to your impudences! No, nor laugh at them neither! Sir Gregory,

you have given me no answer. When will Tracy return? For the Cavendish

rout on Wednesday week? Ah, say yes!"

"Certainly I will say yes, fair tormentor! But, to tell the truth, Tracy

said no word of coming to London when I saw him."

She pouted.

"Now I hate you, Sir Gregory! And he has been absent since May! Oh,

Julian, back already? You shall escort me to the fireworks then. Oh, my

fan! Where is it? I know I dropped it on the ground--Selwyn, if you have

taken it--Oh, Dicky, you have it! Thank you! See, I am going with

Julian, and you may ogle Mrs. Clive, whom I see walking over there--yes,

positively you may, and I shall not be jealous! Very well, Julian, I am

coming! Chevalier, I shall hope to see you at the rout on Wednesday

week, but you must wait upon me before then."

The Frenchman brightened.

"Madame is too good. I may then call at Wyncham 'Ouse? _Vraiment_, I

shall but exist until then!" In a perfectly audible whisper, he confided

to Wilding that "_miladi etait ravissante! mais ravissante!_"

Lady Lavinia went off on her gratified cavalier's arm, encountering many

bows and much admiration as she passed down the walk, leaving her

husband not to ogle the beautiful Kitty, as she had advised, but to

saunter away in the direction of the Pavilion in company with Tom

Wilding and Markham.

D'Egmont guided my lady into one of the winding alleys, and they

presently came out on a large lawn, dotted over with people of all

conditions. Towards them was coming Lavinia's brother--Colonel Lord

Robert Belmanoir--very richly clad and rakish in appearance. When he saw

his sister, a look of surprise came into his florid face, and he made

her a sweeping leg.

"'Pon my honour--Lavinia!"

My lady was not fond of her brother, and acknowledged the salutation

with a brief nod.

"I am delighted to see you, Robert," she said primly.

"The mere word 'delighted' in no way expresses my sensations," replied

the Colonel in the drawling, rather unpleasant voice peculiar both to

him and to the Duke. "Your servant, D'Egmont. I imagined, Lavvy, that

you were in the country?"

"Richard brought me to town last Tuesday," she answered.

"How unwise of him!" taunted the Colonel. "Or had he no choice?"

She tossed her head angrily.

"If you are minded to be disagreeable, Robert, pray do not let me detain

you!" she flashed.

D'Egmont was quite unembarrassed by this interchange of civilities. He

knew the Belmanoir family too well to be made uncomfortable by their

bickerings.

"Shall we leave him?" he asked Lavinia, smiling.

"Yes," she pouted. "He is determined to be unpleasant."

"My dear sister! On the contrary, I believe I can offer you some

amusement. Lovelace is in town."

"Captain _Harold_?" she cried incredulously.

"The same."

"Oh, Bob!" Impulsively she withdrew her hand from Julian's arm,

transferring it to the Colonel's. "I must see him at once! To think he

is returned after all these years! Quick, Julian, dear lad--go and find

him--and tell him 'tis I, Lavinia, who want him! You know him, do you

not? Yes--I thought you did. Send him to me at once!--at once!"

D'Egmont looked very crestfallen at having his walk with the goddess

thus cut short, but he had perforce to kiss her hand and to obey.

"Yes. I thought you would be pleased," remarked Lord Robert, and

chuckled. "Allow me to point out to you that there is a chair--two

chairs--in fact, quite a number of chairs--immediately behind you."

She sat down, chattering excitedly.

"Why, 'tis nigh on five years since I saw Harry! Has he changed? Lud!

but he will deem me an old woman! Is he like to be in town for long, I

wonder?--Dear me, Bob, look at the two ladies over behind that

seat!--Gracious! what extraordinary _coifs_, to be sure! And cherry

ribbons, too!... Tell me, Bob, where did you meet Harry Lovelace?"

The Colonel, who, far from attending to her monologue, had been sending

amorous glances across to a palpably embarrassed girl, who hung on her

papa's arm while that gentleman stopped to speak to a stout dowager,

brought his gaze reluctantly back to his sister.

"What's that you say, Lavvy?"

"How provoking of you not to listen to me! I asked where you met

Harold."

"Where I met him? Let me see--where did I meet him? Oh, I remember! At

the Cocoa-Tree, a fortnight since."

"And he is altered?"

"Not in any way, dear sister. He is the same mad, reckless rake-hell as

ever. And unmarried."

"How delightful! Oh, I shall be so glad to see him again!"

"You must present him to Richard," sneered the Colonel, "as an old

flame."

"I must, indeed," she agreed, his sarcasm passing over her head. "Oh, I

see him! Look! Coming across the grass!"

She rose to meet the tall, fair young Guardsman who came swiftly towards

her, curtsying as only Lady Lavinia could curtsy, with such stateliness

and coquetry.

"Captain Lovelace!"--she put forward both her hands.

Lovelace caught them in his, and bent his head over them so that the

soft, powdered curls of his loose wig fell all about his face.

"Lady Lavinia!--Enchantress!--I can find no words! I am dumb!"

"And I!"

"In that case," drawled the Colonel, "you are not like to be very

entertaining company. Pray give me leave!" He bowed and sauntered away

down the path with a peculiarly malicious smile on his lips.

Lavinia and Lovelace found two chairs, slightly apart from the rest, and

sat down, talking eagerly.

"Captain Lovelace, I believe you had forgot me?" she rallied him.

"Never!" he answered promptly. "Not though you well-nigh broke my

heart!"

"No, no! I did not do that. I never meant to hurt you."

He shook his head disbelievingly.

"You rejected me to marry some other man: do you say you did not mean

to?"

"You naughty Harry!... You never married yourself?"

"I?" The delicate features expressed a species of hurt horror. "I marry?

No! I was ever faithful to my first love."

She unfurled her fan, fluttering it delightedly.

"Oh! Oh! _Always_, Harold? Now speak the truth!"

"Nearly always," he amended.

"Disagreeable man! You admit you had lapses then?"

"So very trivial, my dear," he excused himself. "And I swear my first

action on coming to London was to call at Wyncham House. Imagine my

disappointment--my incalculable gloom (on the top of having already

dropped a thousand at faro) when I found the shell void, and Venus--"

She stopped him, her fan held ready for chastisement.

"Sir! You said your _first_ action was to call upon me!"

He smiled, shaking back his curls.

"I should have said: my first action of any importance."

"You do not deem losing a thousand guineas important?" she asked

wistfully.

"Well--hardly. One must enjoy life, and what's a thousand, after all? I

had my pleasure out of it."

"Yes!" she breathed, her eyes sparkling. "That is how I think! What

pleasure can one get if one neither hazards nor spends one's money? Oh,

well!" She shrugged one shoulder, dismissing the subject.

"Have you seen Tracy of late?"

"He was at a court ball I attended at Versailles, but I did not have a

chance of speaking with him. I heard he was very popular at Paris."

"Ay!" she said proudly. "He has the French air.... I so desire to see

him again, but I fear he does not think of returning. I know he was

promised for the Duchess of Devonshire's rout months ago--before even

the date was fixed, she so dotes on him--but I do not expect to see him

there." She sighed and drummed on the ground with her diamond-buckled

shoe. "Harry, I am chilled! Take me to the Pavilion! I doubt they are

dancing--and Dicky will be there."

"Dicky?" he repeated. "Dicky! Lavinia, do not tell me there is another

claimant to your heart?"

"Wicked, indelicate creature! 'Tis my husband!"

"Your _husband_! Enfin--"

She cast him a sidelong glance of mingled coquetry and reproof.

"Your mind is at rest again, I trust?"

"Of course! A husband? Pooh, a bagatelle, no more!"

"My husband is not a bagatelle!" she laughed. "I am very fond of him."

"This grows serious," he frowned. "'Tis very unfashionable, surely?"

She met his teasing eyes and cast down her lashes.

"Captain Lovelace, you may take me to the Pavilion."

"Sweet tormentor, not until you cease so to misname me."

"Harold, I am indeed chilly!" she said plaintively and snatched her hand

from his lips. "No, no! People will stare--look, there is my odious

brother returning! I declare I will not stay to listen to his hateful,

sneering remarks!... Come!"

They walked across the grass together, keeping up a running fire of

raillery, punctuated on his side by extravagant compliments filled with

classical allusions, all more or less erroneous, and on hers by

delighted little laughs and mock scoldings. So they came to the

Pavilion, where the musicians fiddled for those who wished to dance, and

where most of the company had assembled now that it was growing chilly

without. Down one end of the hall, card-tables were set out, where

members of both sexes diced and gambled, drinking glasses of burgundy or

negus, the men toasting the ladies, and very often the ladies returning

the toasts with much archness and low curtseying.

Lavinia cast off her _capuchin_ and plumed her feathers, giving a

surreptitious shake to her ruched skirts and smoothing her ruffles. She

rustled forward with great stateliness, fan unfurled, head held high,

her gloved fingers resting lightly on Lovelace's velvet-clad arm.

Richard, hearing the little stir caused by her entry, glanced up, and

perceived her. He did not recognise her companion, but the sparkle in

her eyes and the happy curve to her full lips were quite enough to tell

him that it was someone whom she was very contented to have met. He had

ample opportunity for studying Lovelace as the good-looking pair drew

near, and he could not but admire the delicate, handsome face with the

grey eyes that held a laugh in them, the pleasure-loving, well-curved

mouth, and the chin that spoke of determination. Here was not one of

Lavinia's lisping, painted puppy-dogs, for in spite of the effeminate

curls, it was easy to see that this man had character and a will of his

own, and, above all, a great charm of manner. He saw Lavinia blush and

rap the Captain's knuckles in answer to some remark, and his heart sank.

He rose and came to meet them.

Lady Lavinia smiled sweetly upon him, and patted his arm with a

possessive little air.

"Dicky dear, I have found an old friend--a very old friend! Is it not

agreeable? Captain Lovelace--Mr. Carstares."

The two men bowed, Richard with reluctancy, the Captain with easy

_bonhomie_.

"Sir, I claim to be a worshipper at the shrine of which you, I believe,

are High Priest!" he said impudently, and bowed again, this time to my

lady.

"You are one of many, sir," smiled Richard.

Lady Devereux came tripping up to them, and kissed Lavinia with a great

show of affection.

"My dearest life! My sweet Lavinia!"

Lady Lavinia presented a powdered cheek.

"Dearest Fanny, how charming to see you again!" she cooed. Through her

lashes she gazed at her friend's enormous headdress, with its rolls of

powdered curls and the imitation flowers perched upon the top of the

erection.

"But, my angel!" exclaimed Lady Fanny, stepping back to view her,

"surely you have been ill?"

"How strange!" smiled Lavinia. "I was about to ask you that same

question, my dear! 'Tis age, I doubt not. Do we both look such dreadful

hags?" She turned her bewitching little countenance to the men, and

smiled appealingly.

Compliments showered upon her, and Lady Devereux, who was conscious that

her own sallow countenance, in spite of rouge and powder, must appear

even more sallow beside Lavinia's pink-and-whiteness, flushed in

annoyance and turned away, begging her dearest Lavvy to come to the faro

with her. But Lavinia, it appeared, was going to watch the dicing at

Richard's table: she vowed she should bring him monstrous good luck.

"I don't doubt it, my dear," replied her husband, "but I am not playing

to-night. Will you not take your luck to Bob?" He nodded to where the

Colonel was lounging, dice-box in hand.

Lavinia pouted.

"No, I want you to play!"

"'Tis of no avail, Lady Lavinia!" drawled Sir Gregory. "Richard is the

very devil to-night."

Selwyn, rattling his dice, paused, and looked round at Markham with a

face of innocent surprise. Then he turned slowly and stared at

Carstares' grave, almost stern countenance, with even more surprise. He

started to rattle the dice again, and shifted back to face his opponent,

with pursed lips.

"Is he?" he inquired with studied depression.

Even Lavinia joined in the general laugh, not so much at the wit's words

as at his comic expression, and the extreme deliberation with which he

had enacted the little scene.

Someone cried a bet to Lovelace, which was promptly accepted, and

Lavinia's eyes glowed afresh as she followed the Captain to a table.

Richard went to fetch her some refreshment, and on his return, found her

leaning over Lovelace's chair, her hand on his shoulder, eagerly casting

the dice on to the table. He was in time to see her clap her hands and

to hear her cry of: "My luck! Oh, my luck is in! I will throw again!"

Glancing round she caught sight of her husband, and her face fell.

"Do you _mind_, Dicky?" she pleaded.

He did mind, but he could not appear churlish before all these men; so

he laughed and shook his head, and went to her elbow to watch her play.

When she at length ceased, her luck had run out, and she had lost her

much-prized ruby earring to Mr. Selwyn, who placed it carefully in his

vest pocket, vowing he should wear it next his heart for ever. Then, and

then only, did she consent to leave the gaming tables for the dancing

hall, and for another hour Richard had the felicity of watching her

tread the minuet with various young bloods, but most often with her

new-found Harry Lovelace.